


Love, selfish love

by Ischa



Series: Selfish love [5]
Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Implied Incest, Incest, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-13
Packaged: 2017-12-05 05:38:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/719478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Damon comes clean. Things stay the same. </p><p>  <i>“Love, Elena, love is not the solution to everything. Love is not something that can fix this. Love is the fucking problem and it always has been.”</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, selfish love

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the last part. I am not saying I won't write the odd piece in this verse (I do take prompts sometimes), but this is pretty much the main story.  
> I hope you had as much fun reading as I had writing it.  
> Beta: the lovely omletlove.

~1~  
 _Damon's blood brings back memories or dreams or something in between. There is Katherine because she had always been there. Since the first day we saw her she had been a shadow in our hearts, not that I was aware of it back then. It was with her, I think, that I tasted his blood the first time. It tastes different this time. Of course it does. Back then he tasted human. And her blood mixed with his was intoxicating._

He doesn't wait for another blackout. He doesn't wait for anything at all, except a few minutes alone in the house that is their home, and feels like it always has been, even he knows it wasn't.  
The door is always open, because humans don't bother them and vampires...well.  
He hears her before she even steps on the porch. 

“Stefan isn't here,” Damon says, without looking up from the journal. “And no, he didn't say where he was going. So run along and-”

“Damon,” she interrupts. 

He looks up and at her then. “What? Can't I just read in fucking peace because you know peaceful days don't come that often in this town. I bet tomorrow it's back to throwing villains against our walls and the days after we'll have to replace irreplaceable furniture.”  
She looks at the broken chair they still didn't throw out and raises an eyebrow. “Not everything can be replaced. It has sentimental value,” he snaps. 

“Didn't know you held on to things,” she answers. 

“You don't know a lot about me. I had a long and eventful life. And I lived it to the fullest.”

“That I believe. So when I die-”

“You won't,” he cuts in. It's the standard answer, but he knows it's a lie. It seems lately all they are doing is trying to keep her alive. 

“And when I die, what do you think he'll have left? He'll hold on to?” She asks gently. Damon really hates it when she does that. He hates that he can't really resent her for it. It's tiring.

“The world. Less adventure and excitement for sure.” 

“You,” she answers. 

He laughs. “Have you met me? I am not-”

“You are better than you like people to think. You are better than you let Stefan believe-”

“You know nothing about me!” he says again, getting up. 

“I know you love him,” she answers. 

“Love, Elena, love is not the solution to everything. Love is not something that can fix this. Love is the fucking problem and it always has been.” And he thinks, _shreds of my heart on their lips_. 

“What is the solution then?” she asks. 

“I don't fucking know,” Damon answers. _Killing you, grabbing his hand and run, maybe, he thinks._ Stefan said it himself: he can't hate Damon, not for long and they have the rest of eternity to get their shit together. They tried in the past, but it never worked and Damon is suspecting in part it was because he was always lying about the important things. Is still lying about them. 

 

~2~  
 _Damon is staring at my lips. Just for a second, until she squeezes his shoulder and whispers something softly. He looks up at her. She is smiling. Damon doesn't answer. In hindsight it seems like something big and important, but back then it was just her and my brother and a stab of jealousy I felt stupid for. Now I am not sure whom I was jealous of. Now this moment seems big and important and full of hidden meaning. I still can't remember the important parts._

Damon remembers that day. He remembers how he thought they had had sex again. How he knew Stefan had spent the night in her room, how he knew this night he would be in her bed. He remembers her hand on his shoulder, her whispered 'You're staring at his lips.' and how he couldn't answer her, didn't know what to say.  
He could read the whole thing in just a few minutes, but he takes his time and maybe he doesn't want to know all of Stefan's secrets, maybe he doesn't think he deserves to know them, as Stefan doesn't even know half of his.  
He is staring at the fire blazing and it would be so easy to just throw it in and watch it burn and he would never have to think of it again.  
'This is me' Stefan had said and no matter what people think, no matter what he thinks what kind of person he is, he isn't one that can throw away his brother's soul and heart. 

“You look like you're so close to chucking it into the fire,” Stefan says softy. 

“I am so close to doing just that,” Damon lies. 

“You can, you know? I gave it to you. It's yours,” Stefan answers. There is hidden meaning between the lines. 

“What do you remember?” he asks, still staring at the fire. His fingers are denting the leather of the journal because he's holding it too tightly.

“Not enough. I know you remember everything. She didn't make you forget; I wonder why that is?” 

“She needed someone who would be a witness to it. She needed someone to share it with. And it couldn't be you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I loved her and you only thought you did.” 

“Did she think I would run? Did she think I would hate her?” Stefan asks quietly.

“She knew.” 

“Did you?” 

“I did think that, yes, now, I am not so sure anymore.” 

“You are my blood, you will always be my blood, Damon.” 

“But what does it mean? In our case, in our situation? What if it doesn't mean the same to me?” 

“What if it does?” Stefan asks. 

 

~3~  
 _Lips and fingers, squeezing and stroking and part of it is her, so unmistakably her. Her touch burned into my skin and memory that after all these years I can feel it on some nights. And then on some nights there is someone else in the room. And I know it's Damon, because who else could it be, whispering that it'll be alright, like when we were kids and I was scared crawling into his bed. I believed him, I always believe him.  
I tasted my blood on his lips._

“Is this all you remember?” Damon asks, throwing the journal on the bed. 

“You finished? There wasn't a blackout in the last few weeks.” 

“Answer me.” 

“Will you? And will you lie about it?” 

“Should I?” Damon counters. He is tired of this. Centuries of secrets, hiding the truth from Stefan and from himself. Always trying to forget and not being able to. Because Stefan is the only constant in his life. Always was, since the day he was born and Damon loved him. Will always love him, even if this love is tainted with blood and lust now. It is so tangled, that Damon has no idea how to even begin to separate one kind of love from the other. They aren't probably different kinds anymore. 

“No. I want to know what we did. I know things, but I am not sure what I know.” Stefan sounds frustrated with himself for not being able to figure it out.  
He looks at his brother. He looks at Stefan and tries to think of something to say that would make him angry, that would make him grab a piece of the broken chair and drive it through some fleshy part of Damon's body, because it might be preferable to the alternative. “Don't,” Stefan says firmly.  
There isn't a nice way to say it. Maybe there are better words, but what does it matter now anyway? 

“We fucked.” 

Silence and then Stefan looks at him and asks, “You and me?” 

“Yes.” 

“She never compelled you to do anything, right?” Stefan asks. 

“I pinned you down against the bed, the sheets were bloody and I licked the blood from your lips and chin and the hollow where neck meets shoulder and then I ran my tongue over every inch of your skin I could reach and you were watching me do it.” Damon takes a deep breath. “You were enjoying it. Every second of it; I remember your fingers in my hair, tugging gently in warning and I didn't care, you know? Because back then it seemed like the best idea to eat you alive. To gnaw through your stomach and ribcage and make myself at home close to your heart. But I settled for the next best thing.” 

“And that was what? Sucking my dick?” Stefan asks, his breathing is heavy, but Damon can't say why. Maybe his brother is so close to loosing it all for good. 

“Maybe.” 

“Don't give me that!” Stefan explodes. “Don't you dare. I deserve better and you know it.” 

“What do you think? That she compelled you? She didn't. I didn't make you either. You wanted-” 

“I wanted to please her,” Stefan cuts in.

Damon smiles. “Didn't we both?” he says. “But you and me, that was always you and me. You wanted to please me. She was jealous. She watched and I could feel it in her gaze.”

“Why?” Stefan asks, and it sounds like he knows the answer, but what does it matter now? 

“Because I always loved you more.” 

“I know.” 

“It's not going to fix us, you know?” Damon says. 

“I know,” Stefan repeats. 

“And are you happy now? Or should I find someone who can erase every single word of this conversation from your memory so you can live happily ever after?” 

“That is the reason you hate me,” Stefan says softly.

“I don't hate you, Stefan,” he answers, “But what I do feel is so twisted it can't be called love anymore either.” 

“You should have told me earlier.” 

“Yeah? When? When you were high on blood? When I didn't want to live? When you were The Ripper? When you were with Lexi trying to be a good vampire? After I killed Zach? Before I killed Zach? Before your obsession with Elena? It seems there wasn't a good time to reveal to you we fucked and that you enjoyed it and that I -” he stops. 

“You want to do it again,” Stefan states. 

“You look the same,” Damon replies. 

“I am not.” 

“I know, it doesn't make it easier, because you look the same. You always will and your face in these moments: it's burned into my brain forever and ever and ever. Amen.” He closes his eyes briefly. “And that is all.” And it is Damon thinks. There is nothing else to tell. 

“I still can't remember-”

“It doesn't matter, it'll come to you now. I'm sure.” 

“I do remember it hurting more when you left than her dying,” Stefan says. 

“Because we're fucked up, Stefan. That's why.” 

His brother nods.


End file.
